Editor Schwartz had a little trick that he
did. Actually, a lot of the editors at DC
utilized this approach back during the dawn
of the Silver Age, but Julie seemed to do
it with far more panache than most. Simply
put, he'd have the cover to the latest issue
of whatever drawn--or at least planned--before
word one of the accompanying script had even
been typed. Generally, following through
and completing this often puzzling task fell
to either John Broome or Gardner Fox, though
Bill Finger and France Herron both produced
their share of Batman stories for Schwartz
as well. What we have here, folks, is a very
obvious "cart before the horse"
cover scene. And a cheery one as well, eh?...

"The Fallen Idol Of Gotham City!"
was just another in a long-line of cover
come-ons from the fine folks at National
cynically attempting to woo prospective patrons
into their fold by degrading, denigrating,
and demeaning their many so-called superstars
of that supposedly kinder and gentler era.
It happened month in and month out all across
the DC line, from Aquaman to Wonder Woman.
Sure, you usually need to put your title
guy in a bit of jeopardy in order to interest
the border-line buyer, but do you REALLY
have to strip him of his dignity by randomly
ripping his proud uniform, all the while
saddling him with a facial expression that
appears to be about two seconds from devolving
into baby-like bawling?? Is that anyway to
treat a fine fellow like Batman, I ask you?
Seems like there were SOME aspects of this
"New Look" that weren't so new
after all...

As for the story itself, well. People in
Gotham City are suddenly and for no discernible
reason being overtaken by savage homicidal
urges--but this being a 1964 DC comic, no
one actually gets killed, please understand.
But, y'know, they COULD'VE. When Batman himself
is met with the same fierce inexplicable
hostility, the Dynamic Duo later reason out
that there must've been something triggering
these explosive emotions in the water at
the small restaurant they'd just eaten at
(again with the eating!?!..), their dining
motivated as much by the fact that the eatery
in question was located near the epicenter
where all the previous attacks had taken
place and less by actual hunger. But since
young Dick, good boy that he is, had milk
with his meal, and not the water-based coffee
of his older companion, he was immune from
the effects of...WHAT??..

Why, "a top-secret chemical weapon that
the U.S. Army developed but would never use
(because) the effect is too inhuman",
of course! That's how a high-ranking officer
explains things to (or lies to, if you'd
prefer the paranoid slant) our two heroes
at the end of this case. It seems a spy ring
was intent on selling said formula to some
of our foreign enemies--the kind that, again
according to our military liaison, "have
no such scruples"--and were using the
restaurants clientele to not only test their
wares on, but to demonstrate the chemicals'
nasty possibilities to their potential buyers.
Of course, the Caped Crusaders put the kibosh
on THAT idea, and the story ends happily
with Batman receiving a special citation
from the President of the United States (delivered
by in absentia by Gotham's Mayor--perhaps
LBJ was off protecting Superman's secret
identity at the time?...), followed by a
blanket apology made in the name of all of
Gotham for beating up on their champion,
shredding his custom-made outfit, and mostly,
for nearly making him burst out crying like
a Bat-baby!! No prob, replies the ever-classy
Bats, the audience applauds lustily, and
boom--we're done!

Not a bad story, and not a bad solution to
the task of matching that cover to the inside
scenario. Spy themes were big at the time,
so why not involve the Gotham Guardians in
this juicy ripe genre? And, y'know, the art
by Sheldon Moldoff and Joe Giella is pretty
darn decent this time around. Okay, the action
sequences continue to look awkward at best,
but the many quieter panels, those with the
characters mostly just talking, maybe doing
some walking--THOSE are nicely done. Giella
uses some effective shading and shadowing
tricks to add some atmosphere to the generally
static proceedings. Hey, it's still way better
than an overnight stay as a captive in an
alien zoo, lemme tell ya!?!...

A few words about the "New Look"
DETECTIVE COMICS new back-up feature, "The
Elongated Man". Inasmuch as you've put
up with me endlessly oohing and ahhing over
the work of penciller Carmine Infantino when
his turn came up for his bi-monthly shot
at the lead feature, you might well expect
a similar enthusiasm from me regarding this
all-Infantino filler series, but you'd be
wrong. Call me a philistine, but I've never
much liked Carmine's scratchy inks. Oh, I
realize the man himself considers his complete
art-jobs to be the purest expression of his
talent, and he peppered his autobiography
with sidebar testimonials from some of the
greatest comics artists of this generation
rallying to the notion that Infantino on
the inks is the ONLY way to truly appreciate
this great man, but, sorry, I'm not buying
it. I'm not saying they're WRONG, mind you--I'm
just saying it didn't work for me. His bold
blacks and razor-thin lines combined to give
the appearance of hastily finished art, with
little thought given as to how it would ultimately
print, always a prime consideration given
the medium's less than stellar production
values in those earlier days. Call me a comics
geek rather than a true artiste if you will,
but on this topic, I side with the fan-boys
who prefer the addition of Giella or Murphy
Anderson to the equation. (But NOT Sid Greene--which
is a whole 'nother rant!...) The Elongated
Man didn't have the calming influence of
a competent outside inker, and in my eyes,
anyway, suffered for it...

Besides that there was the not-so-minor-matter
of the character's costumes extremely drab
color scheme. Inasmuch as the stretchable
Ralph Dibny debuted as a recurring, sometime-partner
of the brightly bedecked crimson clad Flash,
it made total sense to outfit this secondary
star in shades of light lavender and dark
blue, but on his own, without the necessary
shock of scarlet provided by the speedster,
even his full head of bright orange hair
wasn't enough to enliven the mostly monotone
hues found draping his escapades. And did
I mention the whole derivative aspect? Not
only did the Elongated Man follow in the
flexible footsteps of the classic Plastic
Man, but the leader of the competition's
Fantastic Four, Reed Richards, also shared
this apparently not uncommon ability--and
for gosh sakes, even Jimmy Olsen's occasionally
moonlighted as the aptly monikered Elastic
Lad, when you stop and think about it!...

Not that the feature was without it's charms.
The married Ralph and Sue Dibny had this
whole happy-go-lucky Nick and Nora Charles
sleuthing vibe going on, and the lightheartedness
of the scripts were a welcome departure from
the standard solemn-faced fare of the day.
Still, 10 pages a month didn't allow for
any great epic tales to be produced. Now,
when he teamed up with the book's star, Batman,
for a book length adventure or two, THAT
was a whole different tub of stew--but not
one that'll concern us today, as it turns
out. Maybe sometime soon (or, to be entirely
truthful with you, maybe not...)

Yeah, that's about it. Time to turn our attentions
elsewhere for a bit. For now, gang, that's
our last look at the "New Look"...